Buster Machine 7
by 22671991
Summary: Little bit of character exploration with Lal'c.  No, that title isn't a mistake.  Warning: diabetes-inducingly sappy.


I'm only an ordinary girl. She taught me that.

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><p>When you're young, you always think you know how everything works. I once thought I understood what it meant to be something special, something important. I thought I knew what people thought of me. I thought that I understood them, that I knew why my friends were friends, and why my enemies were enemies. I knew how the world worked.<p>

Once, humans thought we knew how things were.

She taught us how wrong we all were.

I could have hated her for that.

I thought I hated her, once. I thought I had her figured out, just like everyone else. Everything she said about me didn't matter when she was the one at the top, looking down at me, and all I could see was how far I'd fallen.

Before I even knew it, the paper in my hand was all I had left.

"_Nono will give you her singularity..."_

* * *

><p>The little paper crane sits by my window now, watching the rain fall and the clouds pass and the birds fly by every spring. It grows soft, curls up on itself, and I know one day that little paper crane will be brushed away like dust.<p>

The tab still sits in the drawer by my bedside, buried under things I never wear any more. It sits at the bottom of the drawer, smothered by the memories of my childhood, and I know that some day soon, I keep telling myself perhaps this weekend, or perhaps the next, but some day I'll get around to throwing that whole drawer out.

Because my memories are more than just bits of fabric I never wear.

Because my childhood is more than just a little plastic tab.

Because I know I'll never need to look at the little paper crane by my window; I'll never need to remind myself.

"_Here. It's about time I gave this back."_

"_No. This is yours. This was yours all along."_

* * *

><p>I used to be restless every day of my life. A life that was once full of excitement, of wonders most could never possibly dream of, and the more incredible my life became the more I wanted something better. I suppose that's part of being a child, too.<p>

Now? Now I barely have enough time in my life for all the things I have to do. I have a whole world to explore, a billion sights to see, and not a single second to slow down. I can't afford to let it all go to waste. And yet...

And yet...

Somehow, she still finds the time to spare.

Every now and then, she can find just one tiny moment of my life and fill it so full of joy that I can't possibly imagine anything on Earth...anything in the whole galaxy, or in the whole universe, could ever be more wonderful.

"_Nyehehe~ Do you like it?"_

"_You spelled my name wrong, you know."_

"_It made you smile."_

"_You're going to get in so much trouble for this..."_

"_I don't care."_

"_You really are a gooney bird."_

* * *

><p>Now, my childhood is almost like a whole different world. Everything is different...and yet nothing ever really changed but me.<p>

I stared at that little paper crane in my hand for what must have been days, put it right there by my window to greet me every morning, and yet I never understood what it really meant until long after.

I talked to the people I used to know, the people I used to call friends, and all the voices I'd grown so used to over the years sounded so different, I was sure they were different people. I never realized until much later that I was the one who'd changed.

Even when I look at her, I see the same face I remember from my childhood, the same face that looked up at me from above with such wonder and awe and complete devotion. I see that she's still the same, that of all the things that have changed in my life, all the ways that our world is different now...thanks to her...she's still the same as she always was. Even when I see in her, for just a moment, the reflection of who she really is, of _what_ she really is underneath it all. Because that's just another part of her.

It takes time to fit all the pieces together. To tell myself how it all works. To look at this picturesque figure of artificial life and know that this porcelain skin is stronger than ten million trillion tons of rock and steel. That this body is a weapon of unimaginable power. That the heart beating underneath my cheek burns hotter, brighter than any star.

"_Ah...it sped up."_

"_Because I was looking at you."_

"_A degeneracy generator doesn't work that way you..."_

* * *

><p>I know that her hands can crush a sun and split a planet in two and rip the fabric of space itself into all kinds of impossible shapes. But to me, they feel...safe.<p>

I know I'm just an ordinary girl. But that's worth more than any super powers.

She taught me that. That crazy robot. That amazing girl.

"_It's because I love you."_

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><p><strong>FIN<strong>

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><p>I apologize for what an intensely sappy disjointed mess of narrative incoherence this one is. I blame Nono for everything.<p>

Thank you to Yoji Enokido, Kazuya Tsurumaki, and all of the production staff at Gainax who helped make this show a reality. You're all awesome.

Thank you to anyone who's got me +Watched for putting up with my atrocious lack of productivity.

Thank you Nono, for...just being Nono.


End file.
